


The Nutcracker

by Ursa888



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 22:50:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9038408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ursa888/pseuds/Ursa888
Summary: Nutcracker is upon the Grantham Ballet Company, and the arrival of a new soloist brings Thomas a season that he hadn't anticipated.





	1. The New Soloist

**Author's Note:**

> It's just not the holiday season without the Nutcracker (at least for me), so I hope you enjoy and that the season brings you happiness and peace!

Thomas was sitting on a bench in the lobby outside the studio. It was mid-September and the most beloved and most hated season was upon the Grantham Ballet Company: Nutcracker season. While audiences loved to watch the animated toys and the dances of marzipan and chocolate, for dancers, hearing the Waltz of the Flowers or the Dance of the Sugar Plum music trickling out the studio was a nauseating experience.

Thomas had been with the company for about seventeen years now, and had worked his way up from the corps all the way to Principal in that time. This year, he expected to receive the role of Nutcracker Prince, as the principal that had always danced the role previously had retired last year.

As he was pulling his shoes out of his bag he heard Daisy and Ivy giggling as they walked into the room. They were speaking in hushed voices, glancing around the room, as if looking for someone.

“So what’s happened this time?” Thomas inquired in a bored voice as the two girls took a seat on the bench opposite of him.

“Have you heard Thomas?” Daisy asked him excitedly.

“About?” Thomas snapped.

“The new soloist?” Ivy exclaimed as she yanked her pointe shoes out of her bag by the ribbons.

“What about her?” Thomas asked as he slipped his shoes on, “Afraid she’ll beat you two out of your parts?” he said with a self-satisfied smile. Ivy rolled her eyes.

“No, him. His name is James and he just joined the company. I don’t know where he’s from but they’re starting him as a soloist. Not even in the corps. Can you believe it?” Ivy said, posing the question more to Daisy than Thomas.

“I know, I really can’t believe it,” Daisy said as Alfred entered the room.

“Can’t believe what, Daisy?” he asked as he plopped down on the bench next to Thomas.

“Theresh er ner sholoisht!” she replied, teeth full of Kirby grips as she put her hair up in a bun.

“Right before Nutcracker? What are they thinking?” Alfred exclaimed.

“They were thinking that they can’t have you dancing one of the main roles and if they didn’t take on someone new, you’d be the only one left to do it,” Thomas said dryly. He was looking down, putting his other shoe on when a smelly toe pad hit him in the eye.

“Ach, what was that?” Thomas yelled.

“Stop bullying Alfred,” Ivy ordered as she snatched her toe pad back. Alfred’s face was covered in a goofy smile, looking at Ivy, though she didn’t notice him.

“Well anyway, whoever he is he better be good,” Thomas said as he stood to walk into studio to begin warming up.

Alfred watched Thomas walk into the studio.

“Why’s he got to be like that?” Alfred asked.

“Don’t know. Maybe he’s worried this new James will take the Prince,” Ivy offered.

“No. Thomas’ll get that. He’s probably right. They brought him here to take my part,” Alfred sighed.

“You don’t know that, Alfred,” Daisy said reassuringly.

“Thanks, Daisy,” Alfred said sincerely, smiling at her.

“Alright you two, let’s get this over with,” Ivy said, standing to go.

“Get what over with?” Alfred asked, sounding confused.

“Carson’s ‘this is the most important show of the year’ speech,” Ivy said exasperatedly, “We’ve heard it enough times.”

The three of them stood and walked into the studio. It was a large room, a whole wall covered in mirrors, and the other three lined with barres. Black Marley covered the hardwood floors and an upright piano stood in the corner, along with a stereo system.

All the dancers were crowded into the studio, from corps to Principals, sitting in little circles stretching and some on the barre warming up.

“Everyone, may I have your attention,” came the booming voice of Mr. Carson, the company’s artistic director. Everyone one turned minutely to face him, tired looks already on their faces.

“So as you all know, today we begin the Nutcracker season, which is the most important show of the year,” he explained with a smile, his voice full of pride. Everyone one glanced at their friends, some of the corps members anxiously, but most with raised eyebrows and little smirks.

“As with every year, we will be spending the first couple of weeks learning choreography. I’ve already said it every year, but I’ll say it again. Though there are official understudies, everyone is an understudy for every part. So learn all of the routines,” Carson said in a voice that made his statement sound more like a threat than an encouragement.

“In two weeks, we’ll be holding auditions and then you will all be informed of your roles in our upcoming production. That is all.” Carson stepped back and motioned to Mrs. Hughes.

“Good morning everyone,” she said warmly, “You can all take a few more minutes to warm up and then we will start with learning the party scene.” She turned away from the group to speak with Mr. Carson.

 

Daisy, Ivy, and Alfred took a place in the center of the room to begin warming up.

“So Daisy, what part are you hoping to get?” Alfred asked in the middle of a grand plie.

“Oh, anything would be fine. Like Snowy or Dewy,” she replied, not sounding terribly confident.

“I’d like Spanish or Sugar,” Ivy declared.

“You know you won’t get Sugar, it’s Anna’s last year, they’ll surely give it to her,” Daisy said, warming up her pointes.

“Fine then. Spanish,” Ivy retorted.

“I think you’d make a great Spanish, Ivy,” Alfred said kindly.

“What about me?” Daisy snapped.

“You too,” Alfred said, holding his hands up in defense as he sat in a split. Both girls gave him an annoyed look that said ‘who’s side are you on’ before they were interrupted by a charming voice that said “hello” from behind them.  All three heads turned to see a young man with wavy blond hair and bright blue eyes standing behind them smiling.

“I’m Jimmy,” he said, holding out his hand for one of them to shake. Wide-eyed and pleased-looking, Ivy eagerly grabbed his hand.

“I’m Ivy, Principal, and this is Daisy and Alfred,” she said, motioning to each of them respectively.

“Hello, Jimmy nice to meet you,” Daisy said friendly.

“Welcome to hell, or the land of sweets, whichever you prefer. You picked a good time to join,” Alfred said gruffly as he stood to meet Jimmy. A perplexed look flickered across Jimmy’s face before settling back to its normal expression of charming confidence.

“I took the opportunity when it came, just so happened to be now,” Jimmy replied smiling, “it’s nice to meet you all” he said in an alluringly deep voice.

“Pleasure is all mine,” Ivy tittered, batting her eyelashes at him. Daisy rolled her eyes, and Alfred thought he saw Jimmy doing the same, but nearly imperceptibly.

 

“Alright everyone. Out in the center, we’re starting,” announced Mrs. Hughes.

 

For the next few hours, rehearsal went on, all the dancers learning choreography and practicing it in groups. Thomas was most uninterested in the rehearsal, having had the steps ingrained in his memory for years now, that is, until he saw someone new standing on the opposite side of the room next to Alfred. He was slightly shorter than Thomas, well-muscled, and quite handsome. _But he seems to be friends with Alfred, must be something wrong with him._ After a pause Thomas realized, _that must be James._

 Later that afternoon Thomas was in the middle of running the Prince solo along with some of the other dancers, including Alfred and this new James. Part way through the routine Thomas noticed James out of the corner of his eye. _His pirouettes are nice,_ Thomas thought. _But they’d never choose him over me for this._ As Thomas was completing a jump sequence Alfred nearly ran into him.

“Watch it, Alfred,” Thomas hissed.

“Well maybe if you did the right steps I wouldn’t bump into you,” Alfred said grumpily.

 _Did I mess up the choreography? No, Alfred is just being a dolt again._ The fouette combination began and all the men began doing their best turns. With every rotation, Thomas could see flashes of golden hair fly in front of his eyes. _Lovely hair, and look at his legs. I bet his jumps are great. Wait, why is everyone… no… cabriole… god I’m off the music…_

“Thomas!” Mrs. Hughes exclaimed as she abruptly cut off the music.

“Yes Mrs. Hughes,” Thomas replied, trying to collect himself. All eyes were on him and he willed himself to stay composed and unaffected looking.

“What on earth is going on with you?” she demanded.

“What do you mean, I don’t understand?” he asked, trying to sound oblivious, knowing that she’d never buy it.

“You should know this dance. You’ve been understudy for three seasons now. Even James did it correctly and he’s just got here,” she sighed. Thomas glanced down at the ground but he could still see the smirk on the handsome man’s face who was just a few feet away from him. Thomas prayed he wasn’t turning red.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hughes. Won’t happen again,” he mumbled, looking up to nod at her, attempting to keep an air of self-assuredness about him that in that moment he didn’t truly possess.

“Good, from the top,” she instructed, turning to start the music again.  

For the rest of the day, Thomas didn’t miss anything major again, but there was just something off about his dancing.

At the end of the day everyone was in the dressing rooms or the lobby, taking smelly shoes off and hair out of tight buns. Thomas was just putting his shoes away when Mrs. Hughes approached him.

“Thomas, a word,” she said and turned to go to her office. He sighed, grabbed his bag, and followed her.

Once they were both inside she turned to him and sighed.

“Thomas, you know you’re up for the role of the Nutcracker Prince. I’m assuming you were expecting to get it, am I correct?” she asked, giving him a serious look.

“I suppose I was,” he answered cautiously, though smugness still crept its way into his voice.

“Then I suggest you don’t have a repeat of today’s rehearsal. It was like you had never done this dance before,” she paused, “Because as I’m sure you are aware, you’re not the only skilled dancer here.”

“I was aware of that fact, yes,” Thomas replied icily. _Who is she talking about? Certainly not Alfred, James maybe. He is good, but he just got here. She can’t be serious._  

“Now, I’m not saying you won’t get it. But I need you to be performing at your best to prove to me, and to prove to the rest of the company, that you’re more worthy for this part than anyone else. Do you understand?”

“Of course, Mrs. Hughes. Like you said, this isn’t my first time,” Thomas replied exasperatedly. _So I had an off day, everyone does, why does she make such a fuss?_

“Alright… and there’s nothing I need to be aware of. Nothing like last spring with that Philip bloke—“

“No, Mrs. Hughes. Nothing like that,” he snapped, cutting her off.

“Good, because I can’t have that kind of drama in my dressing room.”

“Of course not. No problems here.” Thomas was eyeing the door, ready to bolt through it.

“I’m glad we have that settled. Have a good evening Thomas, see you in rehearsal tomorrow,” she said as she sat down to her desk. 

“Good evening, Mrs. Hughes,” Thomas huffed as he left her office. He stomped back out into the lobby, and thankfully, it was mostly deserted. Thomas didn’t think he could take any teasing from Alfred. _Shite day, shite rehearsal. Oh well, maybe tomorrow will be better._


	2. Auditions

“Good morning everyone,” Carson said as everyone settled into the studio. “I don’t want to prolong the beginning of auditions too much, but I would like to remind you all of something very important. This is the Grantham Ballet Company; a very prestigious and well-known company. You are its representatives. When people come to our shows, they have expectations. High expectations. Therefore, _I_ have high expectations of _you_. So today, I expect that all of you will put your best, pointed, foot forward and impress me, Mrs. Hughes, and most importantly, our esteemed panel of judges,” Carson gestured toward the table at the front of the room, behind which sat Cora Crawley, the wife of an important sponsor and herself a former ballerina, Atticus Aldridge, an instructor in the ballet school, and a man with curly dark hair that no one had ever seen before.

            “Alright. Everyone prepare yourselves. We’ll be running toys first,” Carson said in a businesslike tone. All the dancers went to their respective places, either nervously standing in the center waiting for the music to start, or leaning against the barre trying to carry on conversations quietly while they waited for their turn to audition. The ballerina doll was up first, so many of the ladies, including Daisy and Ivy, were up front. Thomas walked to the back corner of the studio to do some ankle exercises as soldier doll was up next and he’d need to be ready for lots of jumps.

            “Thomas!” Alfred called from halfway across the studio, which earned him glares from all the dancers in the vicinity, and an especially annoyed glare from Thomas, that is, until Thomas saw who was walking beside Alfred as the two sauntered over to where Thomas was standing, and an imperceptible smile flickered across Thomas’ face.

            “There’s no need to yell you big idiot,” Thomas hissed at Alfred once they were in whispering distance from each other. Alfred frowned and turned to his companion.

            “Anyways, Jimmy, this is Thomas, he’s a real pleasure,” Alfred said sarcastically, but Jimmy just smiled.

            “Jimmy Kent, nice to meet you,” he said as he extended his hand. Thomas was struck by the sparkly blue eyes that looked into his. He shook Jimmy’s hand, giving the man an appraising look.

            “Thomas Barrow, and the same to you. So I hear you’re a new soloist here?” Thomas said, trying to tear his eyes away from the handsome face before him.

            “Indeed I am. And I hear you’re one of the Principals?” Jimmy ran his hand through his curly blond hair, making a mess of it, and Thomas thought, _Carson will have a fit_ , _he always wants our hair so tidy,_ though Thomas rather liked the look of it.

            “You’ve heard right. I’m going for Nutcracker Prince this year.”

            “You think you’ll get it?” Jimmy asked with genuine curiosity.

            “Quite sure I will. How about you?”

            “Oh I don’t know. I hope I get something dashing, not one of the stupid, cutesy roles,” Jimmy said with a laugh. Carson interrupted their conversation announcing that the men were up to audition for the soldier doll.

            The rest of the day went well, or as well as hours long auditions could go. By the end everyone’s feet were sore and nerves fried, and ready to know what part they’d been given. All the company members were crammed in the lobby, while Carson, Hughes, and the panel of judges deliberated in the studio.

            Thomas was standing chatting with Anna when Jimmy walked over.

            “Nice audition today Thomas, best of luck,” Anna smiled as she excused herself.

            “Nice indeed,” Jimmy said, grinning at Thomas.

            “You weren’t too bad either, I’ll admit,” Thomas joked, gently bumping Jimmy with his elbow.

            “Not too bad, Thomas? I was brilliant,” Jimmy responded in a mock-challenging voice. Thomas smiled and looked down at his feet. He had watched Jimmy every single time they had danced. Thomas had stared in wonder, admiring the strong thighs that executed jetes and changements with perfection and the charming smile that he knew would win the audience, and more importantly, the judges over. Though Thomas had watched countless dancers before, admiring the likes of Mikhail Baryshnikov and Peter Martins as he grew up, and many other dancers in his professional career, there was something about Jimmy that particularly caught Thomas’ eye.

            Mrs. Hughes stepped out of the studio with a small stack of papers in her hand which she began pinning up on the board. A thick crowd was forming around her, anxious to read the assignments.

            “Let me out, let me out,” she trilled, attempting to weave her way through the throng of dancers. Cries of excitement and moans of disappointment sounded from the dancers at the board as they began to find their names and discover what parts they had gotten.

            “Nervous?” Jimmy asked with a raised eyebrow.

            “Course not. Do you see me running over there?”

Jimmy lightly chuckled and shrugged.

            “You see Alfred over there?” Jimmy asked with a nod, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall, “Kind of pathetic.” Alfred was standing with Daisy and Ivy, searching the sheets frantically.

            “I thought you and Alfred were mates,” Thomas replied, a hint of confusion in his voice.  

            “He certainly thinks so,” Jimmy said with a smirk. Thomas smiled to himself.

            A minute later Alfred was rushing over to where Thomas and Jimmy were standing looking like a puppy that had just received a scolding.

            “So, what’d you get?” Jimmy asked.

            “Lead Mirliton,” Alfred replied with a huff.

            “That’s perfect for you, Alfred. You’ll make a great shepherdess,” Thomas said, suppressing a laugh.

            “’Snot funny, Thomas,” Alfred bit back, “And you know that the women are sherpherdess’. I’ll be a shepherd.”

            “Well don’t look so gloomy, I’m sure they’ll make you a nice lacy frock to match the ladies,” Thomas replied before he walked away. Jimmy gave Alfred a patronizing pat on the back as he followed Thomas to the boards.

            The two searched the lists until they found their parts. Jimmy sauntered over to Thomas with a smug look on his face.

            “So, Thomas…”

            “Prince, as expected. And you?”

            “Spanish,” Jimmy replied with a satisfied smile, “And what’s even better is that Ivy also got Spanish.” Thomas jaw tightened and a twinge of jealousy he hadn’t been expecting stabbed at him slightly. _You can’t like him that much, you just met him._ Thomas paused. _And anyways we’re not going down that road so you can just forget about it._

            “Doesn’t Alfred like Ivy?” Jimmy asked, his question waking Thomas from his thoughts.

            “What? Right, he does. Why?” Thomas asked, surprised at Jimmy’s question.

            “Just curious.”

            “I wouldn’t worry. He’s really not much competition,” Thomas assured, sounding put out.

            “I’m not really worried about competition,” Jimmy said, rolling his eyes.

            Thomas stood in silence, not sure what to say, when Mrs. Hughes walked up.

            “Congratulations, Thomas. I’m sure you’re quite pleased,” she said cheerfully.

            “Quite, Mrs. Hughes,” Thomas said with a respectful, tight smile.

            “And well done, James, snatching Spanish. You’re well on your way. Did you know that Thomas used to dance Spanish?”

            “He never said,” Jimmy replied, smiling and glancing at Thomas.

            “Well you two have a nice evening. Get rested for tomorrow,” she said before walking away.

            “Why didn’t you say you’d danced Spanish?” Jimmy asked, turning toward Thomas.

            “I don’t know. Didn’t seem important,” Thomas shrugged, looking blankly at the board.

            “Well, since you did, can I come to you if there’s anything I need help with?”

            “Of course.” As soon as he said the words, a little voice in the back of his mind told him it was a bad idea. Before he could change his answer, Jimmy said,

            “Thank you,” gave Thomas’ arm a squeeze, and walked away to the dressing rooms. Thomas’ arm burned pleasantly where Jimmy had touched him. He kept still for a moment, feeling that as soon as he moved the sensation would be gone. _Stop being ridiculous. He made it quite obvious he’s interested in Ivy. It should also be quite obvious to you to that you’re not available._ Thomas grabbed his bag off the bench he had plopped it on and left to go home.


	3. Rehearsal

Thomas was sitting on a table in the costume room. It was a large room at the back of the building that housed the company’s enormous collection of costumes. Everything from sparkly, romantic tutus to dark velvet capes hung on the multitude of racks, which created a crowded, fluffy maze throughout the room. Next to Thomas, Mrs. Baxter sat at a sewing machine, a white bodice with diaphanous sleeves in her hands.

“Congrats on your part, Thomas,” Mrs. Baxter said pleasantly, “I’m quite pleased for you.”

“Does that mean you’ll be making a new costume for me?” Thomas smiled mischievously.

“Very funny. It’s not likely,” Baxter replied, glancing up at him with warm eyes, “I only just made the Prince costume two years ago. It’s in perfect shape.”

“Well that’s disappointing. What’s that you’re working on now?”

“Snowflake bodice. The crystals refuse to stay attached to these silly things,” she said, plucking off crystals that were literally hanging on by a thread, “Anyway, I will be working on a new Spanish costume.”

“Lucky for him, I know the bloke that got the part,” Thomas said, trying to sound nonchalant, but Mrs. Baxter didn’t miss the change in tone of Thomas’ voice.

“Should I assume you know him very well?” Mrs. Baxter asked with a small laugh.

“Nothing like that. He’s just new here, I’ve been showing him around,” Thomas said, sounding businesslike. 

“So it’s not going to be like last time with Philip,” Mrs. Baxter asked, her eyebrows raised.

“Don’t start. Please,” Thomas demanded with a look that told Mrs. Baxter that she shouldn’t dare go down that road any further.  

“Right. Well I hope you and the new lad get on well.”

“Don’t you worry. Anyways, I should be off. Rehearsal is supposed to start in…,” Thomas looked at the clock on the wall, “five minutes ago. Better hurry or Anna’ll give me a telling off.”  

 

He hopped off the table and left the costume room. Mrs. Baxter looked after him rolling her eyes and gently chuckling.

 

“You’re late,” Anna said in a light voice as Thomas walked into the studio. She was standing at the barre in a black leotard, hair in a high bun, warming up her pointes.

“’M not that late,” Thomas retorted.

“That’s still late,” she said with a smile, shaking her head.

“Well I’m ready now, aren’t I?” Thomas asked, walking over to the stereo system to start the music for their pas de deux.

Rehearsal went very well. Anna had been with the company since she was eighteen years old and had been dancing the role of Sugar Plum Fairy for the last five years. She was nearing forty and ready to retire. She had a young son and between her knees that had been pushed to the limit by ballet and a desire to spend more time with her family, she had decided that this season would be her last. Though Thomas wouldn’t say it aloud, he thought highly of Anna as a dancer, and even liked her a bit as a person. He would miss her when she was gone, although she would stay on at the school as an instructor. Thomas wasn’t one to get close to his coworkers, despite having been in the company for so long, but he did have those he admired.

Mid-afternoon Anna and Thomas took a water break. Thomas walked out into the lobby over to his bag. He grabbed his water bottle and chugged about half of it. When it hit his stomach it was somewhat painful, but it was a pain that brought relief. Wiping the sweat off his brow, he slumped down onto the bench. He ran his fingers through his shiny, dark hair, slick from a long day of dancing and sweating. He cracked his toes and rolled his ankles, glad for the relief of being able to sit for a few moments. A burst of giggles from the corner of the room broke Thomas from his relaxed state. He looked to his right to find a circle of girls surrounding Jimmy. He seemed to be saying something very amusing as the girls kept laughing. Thomas noticed that both Ivy and Daisy were among the group, but Ivy was standing noticeably closer to Jimmy, as well as looking noticeably more interested in every word that left Jimmy’s pretty mouth. As Thomas watched Jimmy throw his head back, making his blond curls flop back across his head, Thomas noticed the laugh lines around Jimmy’s eyes and couldn’t help but think how handsome Jimmy looked right then. Jimmy began speaking again and then quickly threw Ivy a flirtatious wink. Suddenly Thomas’s heartrate picked up and he soon noticed that he was biting down hard on his cheek. _Stop it. This is getting out of hand._ Thomas wrenched himself off the bench and stomped, gracefully, back into the studio. The relaxed feeling that the water break had given him had all but evaporated.

“Everything alright?” Anna asked, noticing the shift in Thomas’ mood.

“I’m fine,” Thomas barked. Anna pursed her lips and tilted her head, hoping Thomas would tell her what was wrong, but he had not intentions of doing so.

“Let’s just get on with rehearsal, shall we?” he asked, his normal tone of voice beginning to return to him. Anna gave him a polite smile and started the music.

The rest of rehearsal was horrible. Thomas missed his entrance, fumbled the lifts, and couldn’t ever seem to stay on the music.

“Thomas, would you please tell me what’s wrong?” Anna implored, “Because I’m really not of the mind to be dropped on my head today.”

“Everything’s fine. I’m just… tired or summat,” Thomas said, straightening his shoulders, trying to put on an air of cool confidence.

“Whatever you say, but you don’t seem alright. Has something, or someone, gotten to you?” Anna asked concernedly.

“Course not,” Thomas retorted.

“I shouldn’t think so. That’s not really your way. But it’s also not like you to be so distracted. If you need something, Thomas, you know there’s people here you can talk to,” Anna explained, a sweet look on her face. One part of Thomas cringed from her kindness and wished she would just ignore him, but another smaller, quieter part, appreciated the gesture.

“Well, like I said, I’m fine, but thank you anyway,” Thomas replied, hoping that this conversation was over. He started the music up once again, he and Anna practicing the pas a few more times before they stopped for the day.

By the time they walked out of the studio, it was dark in the lobby as the sun had already gone down. Thomas quickly grabbed his things and hurried out the door, attempting to avoid Jimmy and his horde of followers.

Jimmy noticed the front door swing shut and a flash of dark hair disappearing into the night. A disappointed look flickered across Jimmy’s face, while Ivy’s continuous chattering in his ear went unheard.


	4. Rehearsal with Jimmy

It was now mid-October and everyone was in the swing of the Nutcracker season. For the past few weeks, Thomas had been keeping to himself more than usual. Whenever questioned about his behavior, he always replied with a short retort that he was working under a lot of pressure and didn’t have time for fooling around. In actuality, Thomas had been staying clear of Jimmy. Thomas knew what had happened last time he got involved with another dancer, Philip. First he had become hopelessly infatuated and Philip had flirted until it had stretched out Thomas’ feelings as far as they could go. Though they were never a true couple, Philip had Thomas wound tightly around his finger and it certainly had put a damper on Thomas’ career. He had become distracted, putting the chase of Philip above his goals for improvement and moving up in the company. Thomas felt certain that that had put him back at least two years for being promoted to soloist. All of it had been a waste anyways as Philip had moved onto another company a few years ago and had never given Thomas a second glance. Thomas was determined to not let that happen again. He liked Jimmy. He really did. But he wasn’t willing to take a risk, even if Jimmy wasn’t interested in him because still, Thomas knew how his heart could run away with a fantasy. Thus he decided that he needed to keep a safe distance between himself and Jimmy.

It was the end of another long day of rehearsals when Thomas heard someone calling his name. He glanced up as he was untying his shoes to find Jimmy dancing over to him. After a quick sequence of tour en l’airs he landed in front of Thomas, completing the sequence with a pas de Basque and closing in fifth.

“Hello, Thomas,” Jimmy said with a grin.

“Jimmy,” Thomas said with a nod and a small smile.

“How’s rehearsal going?” Jimmy asked as he sat down on the bench next to Thomas.

“”S fine. And you?” Thomas asked, stowing his shoes away in his bag.

“It’s rubbish. Ivy’s committed to being a challenge and I’m tired of it,” Jimmy huffed, yanking his shoes off. Thomas could smell Jimmy’s feet from where he sat but he said nothing about it.

“What do you mean?” Thomas asked, looking at Jimmy.

“She’s so bloody annoying. She argues with me about every little piece of choreography. I know what I’m talking about. She says, “that’s not how to do the lift,” “you’re turning me wrong’,” Jimmy said in a mocking high-pitched voice, “I can’t stand it.”

“Well I’m sorry to hear that,” Thomas replied. Thomas was genuinely surprised by this report, _last I checked those two were flirting like teenagers._

“Hey Thomas,” Jimmy’s voice silencing Thomas’ inner thoughts, “Do you think you could help me with the pas? You said you would.” _Shite, why did I agree to that?_ Thomas thought.

“Right, I did. Sure, Jimmy, I’m happy to help,” Thomas lied, his voice sounding anything but cheery. He scolded himself, _this is not a good idea. Figure out a way to get out of it. Just tell him you’re busy whenever he suggests a time._

“Great,” Jimmy said, sounding excited.

“So what time?”

“How about now?” Jimmy asked, placing his hand on Thomas’ arm as if to pull him up off the bench.

“Now?” Thomas balked.

“Yes, why not?” Jimmy replied, his grip on Thomas’ arm tightening.

Before Thomas knew what he was doing he said, “Sure.” Both men grabbed their shoes and Thomas allowed Jimmy to pull him into a studio.

Jimmy opened the door, motioning for Thomas to enter, and then closed it behind them.

“Alright, so what can I help you with?” Thomas asked as he slipped his flats back on.

“Well, could you show me the first part? Mrs. Hughes reckons I’m not getting enough ‘flare’ in my movements. I’m sure you have plenty of ‘flare’, having done this routine so many times,” Jimmy said, crossing his arms, his statement almost sounding like a challenge to Thomas.

“Ok, so the first part goes,” Thomas began to narrate his movements, “Balance, balance, turning balance. Then soutenu en tournant twice then pirouette out of it. Again.” Thomas repeated the sequence once more before he gave the other direction, “Then you hold for two eight counts, then it’s your turn. Then chasse tour jete chasse cabriole, two fouettes a la seconde, double pirouette and land chasse right tendu derriere.”

Thomas glanced in the mirror and saw Jimmy staring at him intently with a little grin on his face.

“Alright, I’ll try now,” Jimmy declared, and Thomas stepped to the side, “Make sure you’re paying close attention,” Jimmy said with a wink. Thomas had no idea what to make of that, but then Jimmy began dancing and Thomas regained his focus.

 Jimmy executed the movements expertly, with plenty of ‘flare’, _whatever that’s supposed to mean._

Once Jimmy had finished, Thomas spoke up, “I think you’ve got that down just fine. It doesn’t look like you really need my help.” Thomas was anxious to leave. Controlling his thoughts was becoming harder and harder as he watched the flex of Jimmy’s muscles as he danced and how Jimmy’s face glistened with the sweat he had worked up.

“No, no I do,” Jimmy insisted, a hint of panic in his voice, “Um, do you think you could help me with the lifts and turn section?” he asked a bit sheepishly.

Thomas sighed, “Sure.” Then gave a forced smile as he walked over to Jimmy.

“Now you be the lady,” Jimmy said pointing at the floor directly in front of him as he got into starting position.

“Why do I have to be lady?” Thomas asked mock-annoyed.

“Because I’m doing this dance and I have to learn the men’s role,” Jimmy said with a laugh. Thomas laughed in return, and said, “Ok, so it’s an arabesque saute, then you come behind the woman and prepare for the lift when she does the pas de chat.”

Thomas counted them out and then they started the sequence.  When it got to the jump, Thomas felt Jimmy grab his waist as he jumped and it sent tingles all up and down his sides.

“That was good,” Thomas said once he landed, sounding more out of breath than he should have been. Jimmy’s hands were still on his torso, setting Thomas’ skin of fire where they made contact.

“Anything else?” Thomas asked, trying to free himself from his position, but Jimmy’s hold was too tight to move without it being awkward.

“Yes the turns,” Jimmy declared.

They rearranged themselves to do pirouettes, Jimmy’s hands still never leaving Thomas’ waist.

“Now I forget, how many turns does the lady do?” Thomas asked Jimmy.

“It’s a preparation in fourth then a triple pirouette arms in first, then preparation, triple, arms in fifth,” Jimmy replied.

Thomas counted them in again and began his turns. Not used to being the woman, Thomas forgot to tuck his arms in, and so in the middle of his first rotation his hands collided with Jimmy’s chest, knocking himself off balance.

“Sorry, sorry,” Thomas mumbled as he stumbled back onto his feet. Jimmy helped him regain his balance, pulling Thomas closer, the two men facing each other.

“It’s alright, Ivy does that all the time and she’s supposed to be used to it,” Jimmy said with a roll of his eyes as his hands slid to rest on the small of Thomas’ back. Simultaneously, Thomas felt a surge of jealousy at Jimmy’s words and a surge of nervous excitement at being so close to Jimmy. He could smell the mixture of Jimmy’s sweat and hair product lingering under his nose, tantalizing him. Jimmy was looking at him through fluttery blond lashes, a small smile playing across his lips. Thomas stood there dumbfounded, unsure of what to say or what to do with his hands that hung by his side. After a moment Thomas collected himself and suggested they try the turns again.

Thomas got back into the starting position and began the turn sequence. As he spun he could feel Jimmy’s hands whipping around across his waist. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it certainly was giving Thomas a troubling time trying to keep his balance. Once he had landed, the words, “Is that all for now?” sprang from his mouth. Jimmy looked at him with furrowed brow and his mouth pulled to one side.

“Well I was hoping you could help me with the very last bit, where Ivy jumps into my arms and we do the fish dive,” Jimmy requested.

“Uh, I don’t think you’ll be able to lift me and support my weight,” Thomas countered. He didn’t think he could stand another second of Jimmy’s hands on him. _And he doesn’t seem to really be needing any of this. He obviously knows the routine and doesn’t need any of my assistance._

“Pleeeeaase. It’ll only take a few more minutes,” Jimmy begged.

“Fine,” Thomas acquiesced, “we can try, but don’t drop me. If I brake, sprain, or tear anything Carson and Hughes will kill me, and you for that matter.” Jimmy nodded and stood behind Thomas.

“So I think we should do this from an arabesque,” Thomas recommended, lifting his arms and right leg. Jimmy bent his knees and reached out his hands, wrapping one hand around Thomas’ stomach and placing the other underneath Thomas’ thigh. Thomas’ heart skipped a beat and he willed himself to stay calm.

“So now get your thigh ready to support my left leg,” Thomas instructed, “Are you sure you can do this?”

“Yes,” Jimmy replied tersely. 

“Alright, ready, lift,” Thomas said, _why the fuck am I doing this_ , was Thomas’ last thought before he and Jimmy went crashing to the ground. Thomas caught himself on his hands and landed face down on the floor with Jimmy splayed halfway across him.

“Ah, my hand slipped. I had you just fine, but then…” Jimmy trailed off. Thomas couldn’t say anything, pinned beneath Jimmy. If Jimmy’s hands on him had made his nerves sting, having Jimmy’s entire body pressed against him was entirely too much. Thomas was torn between shoving Jimmy off or laying there on the Marley floor forever. Suddenly, the intense warmth that Jimmy’s body had supplied vanished as Jimmy pushed himself back onto his knees.

 Thomas rolled over on his back, looking up at Jimmy. 

            “Sorry about dropping you,” Jimmy mumbled, a slight blush on his cheeks.

            “It’s alright, Jimmy,” Thomas whispered, not sure why he was whispering, as he stared up into Jimmy’s pretty blue eyes, the light from the ceiling shining through Jimmy’s blond curls, creating a glowing halo. _I knew this was a bad idea._ His stomach had turned to butterflies and the rest of his body felt like it was melting into the floor. _Please, Thomas. He only asked for your help, but he didn’t need it, so why is he…._ Thomas thoughts were interrupted by Jimmy’s warm hand that slipped into his to help pull him to his feet.

            Once he was up, Thomas busied himself with brushing off non-existent dust to avoid looking at Jimmy watching him.  

            They walked to the door and Jimmy thanked Thomas for his help. As Jimmy stepped through the threshold Thomas replied, “It was my pleasure.” Right before disappearing around the corner into the dressing rooms, Jimmy murmured “I hope it was.” Thomas stood there staring at the wall in the lobby, wondering if he had heard right.


	5. Conversations

“No Ivy, it’s three soutenus and then a pirouette,” Jimmy insisted. He and Ivy were in rehearsal, bickering about the choreography.

            “It’s two, Jimmy,” Ivy said, exasperated.

            “Well I’ll do three and you can just look like an idiot out there,” Jimmy snarled.

            “What on earth is going on in here?” came Mrs. Hughes voice through the doorway.

            “Jimmy’s trying to tell me—“

            “She doesn’t know what she’s—“

            “That’s enough,” said Mrs. Hughes, holding up her hand to silence them.

            “What is the problem Ivy?” Mrs. Hughes said, her voice remaining calm and professional.

            “Jimmy thinks the beginning section has three soutenus and I say it has two,” Ivy explained.

            “Well, Jimmy, Ivy is right. It is two. Next time you two have a disagreement, you can consult tapes of past performances. The choreography hasn’t changed and it would be much more pleasant to do that than stand here bickering like ill-behaved children.” She gave them a stern look before turning around to leave.

            “Now who’s the idiot?” Ivy sneered as she whipped around walking to the center of the studio. Jimmy’s jaw worked in frustration before letting out a disgruntled sigh and going back to rehearsing.

 

            After rehearsal, Jimmy spotted Thomas in the dressing room in front of the mirror, combing his hair.

            “You’ll never believe what happened today,” Jimmy said by way of greeting as he walked up behind Thomas and started inspecting himself in the mirror.

            “You got a telling off by Mrs. Hughes and Ivy called you an idiot?” Thomas asked with an amused smirk on his face, his smugness hiding the fact that Jimmy’s presence had incited an army of butterflies to begin flapping around inside his stomach.

            “What? How did you know that?” Jimmy shrieked, turning to face Thomas.

            “I was walking by and heard a commotion. I had to see for myself what it was,” Thomas said, still smiling.

            “Well shut up about it,” Jimmy huffed, “Anyway, I know the choreography. It’s just that Ivy’s so annoying she makes me go mad. ‘Snot my fault.”

            Thomas chuckled and Jimmy elbowed him, knocking the comb from Thomas’ hand.

            As Thomas reached down to pick the comb up, Jimmy asked, “So you fancy a drink tonight, Thomas?”

            “Oh, uh, is there a group going?” Thomas asked, fidgeting with his comb in his hand. Often a group would go out to the pub after rehearsal together. Thomas usually went with Alfred, Ivy, and Daisy, though he wasn’t sure why they invited him.

            “Nah, just you and me,” Jimmy said cheerfully.

            _No, say no, Thomas. What with what happened last week you really don’t need to do this._

“Uh sure, that sounds nice,” Thomas said before he could stop himself. He could’ve kicked himself if Jimmy hadn’t been standing there looking up at him.

            “Fantastic, just give me a few minutes to get ready,” Jimmy said with a grin as he walked off to a dressing space.

            _What are you doing? You’re supposed to be keeping your distance. Going for a drink isn’t exactly distant. God, Thomas._

Thomas threw his comb into his bag and pulled on some jogger bottoms and his coat, waiting for Jimmy to reappear. Jimmy came out in a red jumper and black trousers. _Looks like he was planning to go out,_ Thomas thought as he compared his less-than-presentable outfit to Jimmy’s.

            “Ready?” Jimmy asked. Thomas nodded and they headed for the door.

 

            Thirty minutes later they were sitting at a table in the pub, sipping at their drinks. Thomas was listening to Jimmy’s endless rant on how he couldn’t stand Ivy. _I can’t believe I signed up for a night of drunk bitching._ But for some reason, Thomas didn’t mind as much as he should have.  

            “’Snot fair. Why do I have to dance with a silly girl like Ivy? Thinks she knows better than me,” Jimmy complained, taking a large gulp.

            Thomas’ first thought was, _well she does know better than you at least as far as your choreography goes_ , but he opted instead for, “Well what girl would you like to dance with? I’ve partnered Daisy before and she’s quite nice. Unfortunately, Dewy doesn’t need a partner.”

            Jimmy looked deep in thought for a moment before he said, “Well, if I’m being honest, you were pretty nice to partner.” A sly grin curled up on Jimmy’s face before taking another sip. Thomas immediately felt himself turn pink and he let out an awkward chuckle.

            “Well as soon as I wake up one day as a woman I’ll let you know, but until then I don’t think they’ll let me be the princess.” Thomas wouldn’t look up at Jimmy and chose to stare down into his glass. Thomas started when he felt Jimmy’s fingers brush lightly over the back of his hand, causing his head to jerk up.

            “I’m not really looking for a princess to dance with,” Jimmy said in a low voice as he stared into Thomas eyes. Thomas said nothing as all his thoughts were directed at the nerves that buzzed frantically beneath the tips of Jimmy’s fingers that pressed firmly into the back of his hand.

            “And I don’t think you are either,” Jimmy all but whispered. Thomas snatched his hand back before his mind could get too carried away in the moment. Thomas grunted, clearing his throat, and hopefully clearing his head, before he chose his words very carefully.

            “I just do my job. I dance with who they tell me to,” Thomas said, pretending like he didn’t understand Jimmy’s meaning. He was staring down at the table, his fingernail digging into the grain of the wood. A deflated look crossed Jimmy’s face before it regained its usual confidence.

            “Speaking of that, how’s Anna?” Jimmy asked. Thomas looked up at Jimmy, surprised by his question.

            “She’s fine. But she’s done this a million times so there’s really nothing to worry about,” Thomas replied, bewildered by the twists and turns conversation with Jimmy could take.

            “How long have you been at the GBC? What made you go there?” Jimmy asked, a warm and charming look in his eyes. Thomas smiled and began telling the story of how he had become interested in dance as a young boy, and how he made it into the company. The rest of the night continued along the same lines, Thomas and Jimmy telling stories of their experiences in the dance world, and also stories of a more personal nature about their families or their childhood. Thomas told Jimmy about the dog he had as a child, Blueberry, and about the one time that he broke his wrist. Jimmy talked about his favorite music and how he had always gone camping ever summer since he was six. They shared, talked and laughed late into the night until the pub was closing up. Thomas then walked Jimmy back to his flat, bidding him a goodnight. As Thomas walked home, despite the cold night air, he felt a warmth that he hadn’t felt in a long time.


	6. Almost Practicing

It was now late November and opening weekend was just a few days away. After the night Thomas and Jimmy had gone to the pub, their rehearsal sessions had increased in frequency.

            In the costume room, Anna was sitting in a chair behind Baxter as she got Ivy fitted for her costume.

            “How are the costumes coming along, Mrs. Baxter? I know this time of year puts a lot of pressure on you and all the seamstresses,” Anna said with a polite smile.

            “Quite well, thanks for asking,” Baxter replied with a smile, looking over her should at Anna, “How is that fit?” she asked Ivy.

            “It’s good, but it’s a little loose in the shoulders,” Ivy replied. Baxter turned her attention to the sleeves as she went back to talking to Anna.

            “So how’s rehearsal going with Thomas?”

“It’s going quite well. He knows what he’s doing, although he has seemed rather preoccupied lately,” Anna said with a knowing look as she walked around to examine the front of Ivy’s costume. Baxter returned the same look and said, “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“He’s hogging Jimmy, that’s what,” Ivy blurted, an irritated look on her face, “Jimmy spends more time practicing our pas with Thomas than me.” Ivy shook her head and picked at the sequins on her bodice, “I don’t see why though.” Baxter and Anna smiled at each other, suppressing laughs.

Later that evening, Thomas and Jimmy were in a studio, supposedly practicing, but mostly chatting and messing around. Thomas had decided that maybe it wasn’t so bad to spend time with Jimmy as long he kept his thoughts in check. He could at least use a friend, and Jimmy made an excellent one at that.

“Thomas, you see that stack of tutus over there?” Jimmy asked, pointing at a pile of white platter tutus in the corner, “Haven’t you always wanted to try one?”

“Can’t say I have,” Thomas responded, watching Jimmy saunter over to the pile. Jimmy plucked the top one off the pile and whipped around to face Thomas, “Try it,” he demanded.

“I’d rather not,” Thomas said, holding his hands up, grimacing, but a hint of a smile pushed at the corners of his lips.

“Come on,” Jimmy pleaded, brandishing the tutu.

“You try it,” Thomas countered.

“Fine,” Jimmy said, and then pulled the tutu on. In his finest strut he made his way to stand in front of the mirror, admiring himself.

“So… what do you think?” Jimmy asked, striking a pose.

“I think you look ridiculous,” Thomas scoffed, but beamed at the same time.

“But wouldn’t I make a nice fairy?” Jimmy bourreed across the room and landed in b plus.

“Still ridiculous,” Thomas laughed, watching Jimmy in the mirror.

“Really? How about now?” Jimmy hopped over to where Thomas was standing, positioned himself right in front of Thomas, and attempted to roll his hips up against Thomas’ lap, though the flopping of the tutu and its size hindered Jimmy’s progress. Jimmy looked excited and delighted, but Thomas only looked sick and frozen in place. Jimmy saw Thomas’ expression and began sniggering, “Come on, Thomas, lighten up, have some fun.” And with that Jimmy grabbed Thomas’ hands and placed them on his waist. 

“Ok… ok now you’re just stabbing me in the stomach with tulle,” Thomas protested as his face began to turn red. Jimmy just laughed and turned to face Thomas.

“What? We get these stupid things pressed up against us all the time, didn’t think it would bother you,” Jimmy said in a joking tone.

“Right, uh, yeah,” Thomas stammered, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Thomas felt the beginning of Jimmy sliding into his heart (if he wasn’t there already) just as Jimmy’s arms were sliding around his neck. _This wasn’t supposed to happen_ , but then Jimmy’s soft blond hair was tickling Thomas’ still-red cheek, silencing his thoughts. A heavy silence filled the room, only the sound of the two mens’ breathing could barely be heard.

“Do you want to run the pas?” Jimmy asked suddenly, looking past Thomas at the wall in front of him. Thomas could feel Jimmy ‘s breath against his shoulder as the man spoke. The question surprised Thomas, seemingly coming out of the blue. Thomas paused and thought for a moment before responding.

“Jimmy, why do you ask for my help? You and I both know you don’t need it,” Thomas said quietly, his voice shaking slightly. He wasn’t sure why he was asking and he certainly wasn’t sure he knew what he was hoping the answer would be. Jimmy took a deep breath and swallowed, seemingly trying to compose himself. Suddenly, shining blue eyes were looking into Thomas’. In that moment, Thomas felt like he was drowning in their depths. Jimmy was searching Thomas’s face, looking for what, Thomas didn’t know. Jimmy’s hold on Thomas tightened as he moved closer, the tutu cutting against Thomas’ stomach even more noticeably now. Jimmy licked his lips and then, staring determinedly into Thomas’ eyes, he said, “Because I like dancing with you.” Though the words were feeble, the look Jimmy was giving Thomas showed that they meant so much more. Thomas let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and whispered, “I like dancing with you too, Jimmy.”

Neither seemed to know what to say so they just stared at each other, transfixed in the quiet moment, as if floating in a bubble in a world all their own, and it seemed as though this moment could last forever.

It was Jimmy who broke the silence.

“I never liked Ivy, you know,” Jimmy confessed.

“What?” Thomas blurted, startled by Jimmy’s statement.

“I never liked Ivy,” Jimmy repeated. He chewed on his lip, seeming to be meditating on a thought. “Dancing with her, it’s no good, Thomas.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. But good news is that in a few weeks you won’t have to anymore,” Thomas replied, completely befuddled at the topic of conversation. _Why is he saying all this?_

“I like dancing with _you,_ Thomas,” Jimmy said, sounding like he was begging, “I want to dance with you.” Jimmy’s voice was strained, as if he was choking and couldn’t get any air. He moved closer to Thomas and stared at his shoulder. Making eye contact was too difficult.  

“Maybe one day, Jimmy, we can dance together,” Thomas said, trying to sound reassuring, but his voice was low and groggy.

“Right,” Jimmy said tightly, his lips brushing against Thomas’ cheek. Thomas nearly jumped at the sensation, electric shock waves pumping through his body.

“But I don’t want to wait to dance with you. I want to now,” Jimmy pleaded.

“Jimmy, I don’t, I don’t understand,” Thomas stammered, “We’ve been practicing together for weeks.”

“Enough with practice,” Jimmy said, a shocking amount of force behind his words.

“Wha—“ but before Thomas could get his words out, Jimmy was crashing his lips against Thomas’. Thomas was completely still, not moving his lips, entirely torn as to what to do. _No… but it’s so good… no… but it’s Jimmy… doesn’t matter, no… but I want this._

Jimmy pulled away, looking absolutely defeated.

“You don’t like me?” Jimmy’s voice was so small it was unrecognizable.

“What? No! Of course I like you, Jimmy, I just…” Thomas trailed off, closing his eyes. He took a few shaky breaths, trying to slow his heart and allow himself to think clearly, if at all possible. He then felt Jimmy’s arms slip off his shoulders and he immediately began to miss the contact. _Don’t go._ His hand flew out, cupping Jimmy’s cheek, before he could question what he was doing. He opened his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes looking at him longingly, distraughtly, hopefully.

“Of course I like you, Jimmy,” Thomas breathed, wrapping his free arm around Jimmy’s waist, pulling him close.

“I like you a lot,” he said, resting his forehead against Jimmy’s. Jimmy gingerly placed his fingertips against Thomas’ biceps

“So, so is that a yes?” Jimmy whispered. Thomas could taste Jimmy’s breath and it made him eager to get an even better taste. 

“Jimmy,” Thomas breathed lovingly before turning his head and pressing his lips gently to Jimmy’s. A low chuckle sounded deep in Jimmy’s chest as he threw his arms around Thomas’ shoulder’s and jumped into Thomas’ arms, wrapping his legs tightly around Thomas’ waist. Thomas stumbled backwards, regaining his balance, his arms full of Jimmy and tulle. Jimmy deepened the kiss, but his ear-to-ear grin made it difficult. Thomas began to cover Jimmy’s face with sweet pecks as he spun around the room, moving to the rhythm of Jimmy’s gleeful laughter.


	7. Opening Night

“Finally here.”

            “Only three weekends left,” Jimmy grunted as he laid down in a stretch.

            “You’re already counting down on opening night?” Thomas asked, scrunching his eyebrows.

            “Yep,” Jimmy responded.

            “I thought you’d be all excited to get to dance with dear Ivy for three weekends,” Thomas teased.

            “You shut it right now Thomas or I swear,” Jimmy threatened playfully.

            “Swear what?” Thomas prodded.

            “Swear I’ll come over there and snog that smug look off your bloody face,” Jimmy laughed.

            “Be my guest,” Thomas said, giving Jimmy a look that almost made him act on his threat.

            They were warming up onstage with all of the company’s other principals and soloists. The sound and lighting crew were testing out the equipment so the lights kept snapping from one set being on to the other and short bursts of Tchaikovsky would fill the theatre before going off again. Props were being shuffled around backstage and costumes rolled in on portable racks.

            Carson walked up the front steps of the stage from the audience clapping to get everyone’s attention. From their places on the floor, everyone looked up as they continued stretching.

            “Good afternoon, everyone. As you all know, it is opening night. You’ve all been working hard to put this show on and I expect a show that will meet, or better yet, surpass the level of expertise of past performances. I just wanted to let you all know that one of our most prominent sponsors, the Crawley family, will be in the audience this evening. So just keep that in mind. Make sure you get well warmed up and dressed in time for the show to start. Now I have to go and check on… everything,” Carson said with a sigh and roll of his eyes, “so that is all. Impress me.”

            Thomas scoffed, bowing his head to speak to Jimmy.

            “He’s always concerned when the Crawley’s show up. Robert Crawley wouldn’t know a good ballet from a bad ballet if it kicked him in the derriere.” 

            “But wasn’t his wife a ballerina?” Jimmy asked, brows furrowed.

            “Yes, but even if she said something bad about the performance it would go in one ear and out the other and the money would keep flowing,” Thomas explained.

            “Ah. Well I’m going to put on a good performance anyway. I’m going for your part next year,” Jimmy laughed.

            “You rascal,” Thomas said, gently shoving Jimmy, which only made him laugh more, and even Thomas couldn’t smother his smile. Talking to Jimmy, being with Jimmy, seeing Jimmy laugh, everything about Jimmy made Thomas smile. Even now though a little voice would creep into Thomas’ head and say, _this is a bad idea_ , but Thomas knew the voice was wrong. He reminded himself that Jimmy wasn’t Philip, wasn’t even like him at all. And just because he got hurt before didn’t mean that the same would happen again. He cared for Jimmy, and Jimmy for him and that was enough to give Thomas faith that maybe something good could come of this.

            “Hey, you alright?” Jimmy asked in a hushed tone, his hand resting on Thomas’. Thomas realized he had been staring fixedly at the floor.

            “Just perfect,” he said with a smile, rubbing his thumb against Jimmy’s hand.

            “Want to go back and get ready?”

            “Course.”

           

            The two men were in the green room, sitting on stools in front of a mirror. Thomas was applying a thick coat of foundation and Jimmy was combing back his hair, spraying it in place.

            “My hair won’t ever lay flat,” Jimmy grumbled.

            “Want me to help? Here try some of my pomade,” Thomas offered, holding up a little black container.

            “Thank you,” Jimmy replied, smoothing the product into his hair.

            A moment later Daisy, Ivy, and Alfred walked in.

            “Everyone ready for opening night?” Daisy asked excitedly. Jimmy gave Ivy a look of displeasure through the mirror which she returned and Thomas simply shrugged.

            “I’m looking forward to it, Daisy,” Alfred said with a smile.

            “I know I am. I’ve never danced a role this big before,” she said with a bounce before walking to her mirror to get ready. Ivy and Alfred followed suit soon after.

            Thomas was pulling on his soldier costume, a red jacket with black buttons and black trousers, when he saw Jimmy struggling with his eye makeup.

            “Stupid eyeliner,” Jimmy muttered.

            “You’re smearing it all over your eyelid,” Thomas said with a light laugh.

            “Then you fix it,” Jimmy huffed, thrusting the pencil into Thomas’ hand. Thomas knelt down in front of Jimmy, Jimmy closed his eyes, and Thomas began drawing a thick black line across Jimmy’s eyelid.

            “Ugh, that hurts,” Jimmy complained.

            “Almost done,” Thomas breathed, focused on making the makeup look nice.

            “There, very pretty,” Thomas said teasingly, tapping Jimmy on the nose.

            “Shut it,” Jimmy said, trying to not smile, “Could you help me with my lipstick?”

            “Have you never done this before?” Thomas asked incredulously.

            “Um, well… no. I haven’t,” Jimmy said embarrassedly.

            “And how did you manage that?” Thomas inquired.  

            “At my last company I always got one of the ladies to do it for me,” Jimmy said with a charming smile that Thomas figured was how Jimmy made that happen.

            “Well I’ll help you for now, but you’re going to have to figure it out for yourself eventually,” Thomas said. He picked up the case and twisted the tube of lipstick up.

            “Now open your mouth in an ‘O’,” Thomas instructed.

            “One thing first,” Jimmy said before leaning in to peck Thomas on the lips, “there, didn’t want to get it all messed up once you got it looking good.”

            “Now you’ve messed my lipstick up,” Thomas said, momentarily inspecting his face in the mirror.

            “I did not,” Jimmy said, lightly shoving Thomas. Thomas nudged Jimmy’s shin with his knee, “Now sit still and let me finish.”

            Thomas reached forward and began applying the blood red lipstick on Jimmy, first smearing it across Jimmy’s bottom lip, and then in two even arcs across the top.

            “Now rub it together,” Thomas watched Jimmy pressing his lips together. When Jimmy raised his eyebrows, indicating Thomas to inspect, Thomas said, “Just one little spot here,” he said, dabbing a dot of red on Jimmy’s lips, “There, very good,” he said, putting the tube away.   

 

            “Five minutes!” called William, the stage manager.

            “Thank you, five!” called back everyone in the dressing room.

 

            Thomas turned back to Jimmy who was putting on his costume and asked,

            “So you ready?”

            “Course.”

            “That’s a nice costume Mrs. Baxter made for you,” Thomas commented. Jimmy was wearing a black velvet jacket with red cords and golden buttons and black velvet trousers to match.

            “It is nice,” Jimmy replied, admiring himself in the mirror.

 

            A few minutes later the opening music of the party scene could be heard from backstage.

            “Thomas, we need you for the party scene,” whispered William, his head poked through the dressing room curtain.

            “Merde,” Jimmy said as Thomas got up to leave.

            “Merde,” Thomas replied with a smile as he disappeared through the curtain.

 

            Later that evening, Thomas and Jimmy were lounging on the sofa in Thomas’ flat. Thomas sat on one end, and Jimmy on the other, his feet in Thomas’ lap getting a massage. They were relaxing in their pajamas, some Christmas show mumbling on the telly.

            “I watched your performance tonight, you were quite splendid,” Thomas complimented.            “You as well,” Jimmy said, poking Thomas with his toe, “You see Alfred?” Jimmy asked with a smirk.

            “Now, now, have some pity for the poor shepherdess,” Thomas admonished, stifling a laugh.

            “I’d rather have a good laugh, all those girls he was dancing with were doting on him enough,” Jimmy said with a roll of his eyes.

            “Jealous are we?” Thomas asked teasingly, giving Jimmy’s foot a tight squeeze.

            “Not likely, not when I have you.” Jimmy dropped his eyes to his lap, blushing at his uncharacteristic sentimentality.

            “How sweet,” Thomas said mockingly with a playful smile, tickling the underside of Jimmy’s foot.

            “Stop it,” Jimmy said giggling, while simultaneously kicking Thomas. After they had settled down, Jimmy said, sounding almost nervous,

            “Oh, I have news, by the way. I was talking to Mrs. Hughes after the show and I was asking her if she would consider a duet, a duet for two men, for Arabian next year,” Jimmy paused, looking to gauge Thomas’ reaction, the man’s face looking serious but curious, “and she said she would consider it. I think she really meant it too.” Jimmy sat up and crawled across the sofa into Thomas’ lap, sitting astride his legs.

            “Wouldn’t that be great, Thomas?” Jimmy asked excitedly, curling a lock of Thomas’ hair around his index finger.

            “It would, but you still don’t know if she’ll actually go through with it, and who’s to say you’d get it?” Thomas asked cautiously.

            “You mean, _we’d_ get it. And I’m sure of it, Thomas, I am,” Jimmy said in a serious tone, “Because like I told you before, I want to dance with you, and I will. We will.” Thomas smiled at Jimmy, a loving look painting his features.

            “You know I’d love that Jimmy,” Thomas said, kissing Jimmy on the cheek, “And I certainly hope we do get that chance,” he said, wrapping his arms tightly around Jimmy’s waist. Thomas looked into Jimmy’s eyes, those eyes that had so enraptured him the first time they met as they still did now. Then the look of pure affection that Thomas had been wearing transformed into a more mischievous one,

“But for now, there’s… a different kind of dancing,” Thomas said in an enticing whisper, his breath caressing Jimmy’s face, “that I’d like to do tonight,” and before Jimmy could say anything Thomas scooped him up in his arms, just like they were the first time they kissed, and carried him off to do their own kind of pas de deux.


End file.
